The Surprise
by bravenclawesome
Summary: After the Final Battle, Ron and Hermione journey to Australia to restore the memories of Hermione's parents. However, they arrive to find that the Grangers have not only moved on from their past, but also have a five-year-old son.
1. Takeoff

Takeoff

"Well, this is nice, isn't it Ron?" said Hermione with a smile, settling into her seat. Her hand wandered automatically to the remote on her armrest and pressed a button. The recliner instantly kicked into action, and the seat was promptly turned into a bed. She sighed in contentment as Ron watched her with an amused expression on his face.

"Tell me again, Hermione," Ron said, trying to sound casual, but Hermione noticed he was betraying his nervousness from the way his fingers were drumming on the armrests. "Why are we travelling on this Muggle airliner, when we could do the trip by multiple Portkeys in _half_ the time, the same way Charlie travels to Romania?"

In his first class seat, Hermione knew that Ron was very comfortable, but he was slightly anxious nevertheless. Ron had never travelled on a plane before, and Hermione hadn't given him much preparation for it either. "_Ron_, you were there yourself when Kingsley suggested this," she said, trying to sound reassuring and mildly exasperated at the same time. "You know that even Charlie's relatively short journeys to the dragon sanctuary in Romania are no joy ride!"

Ron raised an eyebrow at her, not completely convinced, and Hermione sighed. "Portkeys are okay for short to medium distances, Ron, but long intercontinental chains of them are no fun at all. That's why so many people from far away came to Britain by Muggle transport when the Quidditch World Cup was on here. Kingsley himself said he hated it when he went to that secret magical conference at the UN, you know, after he became Minister for Magic."

Hermione paused for a moment, trying to decide whether to explain the UN or not, but decided not to, for fear of going completely off tangent. "Did you know, Ron, he actually had to do multiple hops with the Portkeys, via The Orkneys, Iceland, Greenland, Newfoundland and on down to New York. Remember the Portkey we took to the World Cup? That was exhausting, not to mention nauseating. Would _you_ fancy going on three to four of those across the world?"

Ron shook his head, and Hermione felt a rush of satisfaction. "Exactly. I for one don't fancy spending hours with my head in a loo, throwing up from motion sickness. You know what he said, Ron. The next time Kingsley has to go a long distance, he'll be travelling by Muggle means, and you must know that New York trip was nowhere near as long as this one will be. So, all in all," she concluded with a bossy air, "I think the plane would be the safest and most comfortable way to travel. This way will be far more comfortable, we just have to sit here, enjoy the hospitality and inflight entertainment, plus we can sleep whenever we feel like it."

Ron seemed to have been mollified by her explanation. Wriggling in his plush seat, he smiled back at her and said, "We'll I must say, these Muggles certainly do know how to travel in style. This seat's very comfy."

Hermione laughed. She sat up a little and pointed to a button on his armrest, "You can sleep on this too if you press that button. And there's free food, drinks and films. You know I love films!"

Ron kissed her on the cheek. "Are all planes like this?"

"Only in first class," she replied. "It's nowhere near as comfortable and spacious back in economy class. Now put on your seatbelt before you fall out when we take off."

Ron gulped a little and did as Hermione had told him, fumbling at and eventually managing to fasten his seat belt. Hermione saw a flight attendant coming by and readjusted her seat back to normal before she got into trouble. As her own seatbelt clicked into the place, the plane began to taxi out. A cool female voice announced overhead, "Your flight to Sydney, Australia will start in five minutes."

"Don't worry, Ron," said Hermione as her husband tensed up again, "The mechanics of what keeps planes up is the same stuff as what allows owls to fly, and they don't use spells either. It's perfectly safe, I promise you. Muggles would think a broomstick was far more dangerous." She placed a comforting hand on his, interlacing their fingers. "And anyway," she whispered in his ear, "You're doing this for me, aren't you?"

* * *

Once the plane had steeply climbed out and was in more level flight, Ron relaxed a lot more. He had also released his firm grip on Hermione's hand, which was fortunate, as he had nearly cut off the blood supply there. Hermione shook it out and felt a rush of heat flowing back into her hands, letting out a sigh of relief.

They released their seat belts when told it was safe and then, when the flight attendant began to serve drinks, they both had a complementary glass of champagne, which was available to first class passengers. Ron took one sip, decided he didn't like it and asked for a lager instead, which was swiftly brought to him. (Having been out and about a lot in Muggle London with Harry and Neville in the weeks after the war, Ron had gained some knowledge of and familiarity with Muggle drinks and had settled on lager as his favourite.)

However, when the attendant tried to take away Ronald's unwanted champagne, Hermione claimed it instead. "Waste not, want not," she said with a smile. She then went on to demonstrate to Ron how the entertainment console worked. After showing him how to plug in his headphones and getting him set up with an action movie of his choice she pulled out quite a disproportionately large book from her exceedingly tiny beaded bag when the flight attendant wasn't looking, and began once again to read Hogwarts, A History, for the umpteenth time.

The pair then sat for some time in companionable silence, each wrapped up in their own interests. The plane headed on towards the distant land, passing through clouds and hovering above them. Ron was fascinated with the view outside, keeping his nose glued to the double-layered plastic window, and Hermione laughed at him, remembering how she herself had been similarly fascinated back when she was a child on her first plane ride. After about two hours, she put down her book and looked through the entertainment section. She was disappointed to find that all the films on offer were ones she had already seen, and while they were good films, she didn't fancy watching them again. She sighed, reclined her seat back and turned on her side to think.

**Author's Note:**

**This was an 'orphaned' story which my friend Oriondruid had somewhat abandoned, so I decided to take up the challenge and continue writing it. I've changed most of the plot and most of this is my own writing, but kudos to him for thinking up the original idea!**


	2. The Calm Before The Storm

The Calm Before The Storm

In truth, Hermione was very worried.

It had been four years since she had last seen her parents, and she wasn't sure what had happened to them at all. After the Final Battle, she had taken some time to finish her education, settle down and find a job, all of which she had completed with the utmost success. All who had participated in the war, along with their family and friends, had rebuilt Hogwarts together, so the construction was completed much faster than expected due to everyone pitching in together. After completing her NEWTs and earning Os across the board, she was quickly transferred to the Ministry, and was now the magical equivalent of a Muggle lawyer, something she had always wanted to be since she was small. She spent every day working for the Ministry and writing new laws for rights of magical creatures, as well as participating whenever such creatures needed any legal help. Hermione was very proud of her job, with a steady income and much job satisfaction. And of course, it helped that there were an endless list of enjoyable books to read.

Then had come the Death Eater trials. Kingsley, the new Minister for Magic, had placed a Travel Ban on the country in order for the Aurors to round up Voldemort's supporters, and once they were found they were instantly sent to court. Hermione and all her friends were made witnesses for the prosecution, despite the fact that it wasn't easy seeing the faces of the people who had killed the innocent on their side. The trials were a slow, arduous process, not to mention painful. After all, it had taken a while for everyone to heal from their battle scars, both physically and mentally. The Weasleys in particular had been shocked by Fred's death, being the epitome of a tight-knit family, but no one suffered as much as his twin, George. Losing his twin was like losing his better half, and Hermione could almost understand why he had spent so many months in his bedroom staring into space, speaking in monosyllables when answering questions and being surrounded by an ever-present aura of depression. They were all healing, even up to this moment, but they knew they were now doing significantly better.

Harry and Ginny had been the first to get married. A year after the war, they tied the knot. It was a small affair, as they didn't want too much attention on Harry's request. Only a couple of close friends and the respective families had attended, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. Ron had had a fun time giving Harry multiple threats on what he would do if he ever hurt his baby sister, along with Hermione who had her own version of speaking to Ginny, seeing as Hermione herself treated Harry like a brother.

A month after that, the buzz of Harry and Ginny's wedding had cooled down, so it was the perfect time for Ron to pop the question. He didn't have enough money for an engagement ring, but it didn't matter to either of them. Hermione later found out that the beautiful bouquet he had gotten for her had been bought with the money he had earned from selling all his prized possessions – his Chudley Cannons shirt, his old toys, the posters in his room and even the teddy bear his twin brothers had once turned into a large spider that had traumatised him for life. Upon finding out this tidbit of information, Hermione had been so overcome with emotion that it was enough for her to agree to the marriage, knowing that she and Ron loved each other with all their hearts.

They married in the spring. It was a wonderful wedding, and in contrast to Harry and Ginny's, a very extravagant one too. Many guests arrived in addition to the already humongous Weasley family, and when they were pronounced man and wife, she knew she couldn't have been happier.

After a luxurious honeymoon in Venice, Hermione proceeded to settle down with her new husband. After some searching, they found a nice cottage on a hillside, with a nearby meadow of sunflowers and a beautiful view from the windows. They took the place for their own and spent the next few months painting, decorating and suiting it to their interests. After half a year, the makeover was complete, resulting in a cosy home that Harry and Ginny visited at least once a week when they came to see their dear friends.

But despite the happiness and tranquility of it all, Hermione knew she ultimately had to find her parents. Obliviating the Grangers and changing their identities had taken away a part of her that she knew couldn't be replaced. It was like something she had to do, constantly nagging at her until she simply couldn't leave it alone. She knew that she had dragged on for too long; all the things that had happened after the war were mere excuses for her duty as a daughter to her parents. She had been avoiding the matter for so long it was beginning to become a strain on her. They had brought her up with love and care, and it was her duty to find them again, being their daughter and only child. The only thing she could do was to do so and restore their memories, right?

With this in mind, she began to save up, bit by bit, until she had enough money to buy two pricey return tickets to Australia and back. She then went to the Ministry to request for a six-month leave, and as she was a diligent worker, they were lenient about the situation, especially after she had explained it to them and they had taken pity on her. Kingsley agreed to make an exception for Hermione just this once. He had even helped to contact the Australian Ministry of Magic for her, and after Hermione had explained her story to them as well, they quickly found the address of 'Wendell and Monica Wilkins'. After some negotiation, the Australian Ministry agreed to help her and arranged a convenient cover story for her to meet her parents again.

She was to enter the house under the pretense of being a lawyer, working for a firm called Longbottom & Abbott. It was simply good luck that her friends' names suited that of a law firm so well, and both Neville and Hannah had agreed to letting her use it with greatest sympathy. She was going to explain to the Wilkinses that a relative of theirs had passed away, a Great Aunt Matilda Wilkins. The name had been another invention, as Ron had humorously made a reference to the song 'Waltzing Matilda' and suggested that she use the name ("Isn't it the national anthem of Australia or something?") Aunt Matilda had supposedly left some of her possessions to 'Wendell' and 'Monica' in her will, and Hermione was up for the job.

Of course, as soon as she got closer to her parents, she would be able to restore their memories. At least, that was what she had planned so far. After four years of careful planning and determination, she was on her way to achieving her goal. And with mixed feelings of anxiety, nervousness, and anticipation, she watched Ron stare at the view outside, wondering what exactly was going to happen to her.

She had never been part of a plan where so much could go wrong all at once.

**Author's Note:**

**Stay tuned for more chapters!**


	3. Arriving Down Under

Arriving Down Under

Leaving the airport at Sydney, Ron and Hermione were immediately hit by the warmth of the new climate they found themselves in. They had left England in mid-autumn and thus had arrived in Australia in mid spring. Thankfully the full heat of the Australian summer had not yet arrived and it was pleasantly warm, not too hot. Ron hated very hot weather, what with his complexion being highly prone to sunburn and needing liberal applications of sun screen lotion as well as Sun-Blocking Charms in order to prevent him turning into an overlarge replica of a beetroot.

A representative from the Australian equivalent of the Ministry of Magic met them both and escorted them to a car and thereby they were conveyed to a comfortable wizard run hotel in the local 'magical district' of Sydney, known somewhat humorously as Nothere Lane, in the Balmain district near the harbour.

It seemed that even on the far side of the world, wizards and witches had kept to the tradition of often having slightly humorous names for their main magical districts and Nothere Lane was no exception. It consisted of not only the actual Lane itself, but several side alleys leading off of it. The entrance to Nothere Lane was hidden by concealment charms and appeared to Muggles as an old, closed up shop in the main Muggle street of the area called Darling Street. It was entered in a similar way to St. Mungo's Hospital in London, through an apparently solid shop window, or alternately by apparition direct into the rear yard of the premises or using various Floos in the magical district itself. Floo travel however, given the sunny weather, was somewhat limited, as few private houses had large fireplaces with which they could use to travel to and fro. The main part of the Lane, once entered, eventually lead down to the sea at the far end. Like Diagon Alley in London, it was, effectively, a small magical district Muggles couldn't see or enter.

The Griffin Hotel where Ron and Hermione were to stay was a pleasant surprise, as it was run by two expat Brits. They were originally 'Ten Pound Poms' who had emigrated there from Britain back in the early Sixties on the cheap fare scheme, after completing their education at Hogwarts. They had prospered and their hotel and bar had become famous as a good place to stay, or to simply have a meal and a nice cold drink. It was close enough to the harbour for the bar's terrace and some of the rooms to have stunning sea views. Ronald and Hermione's room looked out over Mort Bay towards Goat Island and Ballast Point Park. They had managed to book the most luxurious and opulent room in the whole hotel, with the best view to boot, courtesy of the Australian Ministry. When the owners found out that Ron and Hermione, like themselves, had both been Gryffindors whilst at Hogwarts, (hence the name of their hotel), they were greeted like old friends of the family.

Jeremy and Miranda Wells, the proprietors of the hotel, were a delightful couple in late middle age. Their staffs of younger people, including their daughter Julia, were friendly and welcoming. They had information on everything about how to get around the country, and provided excellent service. Ron and Hermione spent the afternoon wandering around Nothere Lane, occasionally entering shops they found interesting and buying souvenirs for their trip.

The shops Ron and Hermione found along Nothere Lane were no less than surprising. Of course, there were shops for school supplies which sold the usual things they could easily find on Diagon Alley, but also present were many shops selling traditional food (which Ron was extremely pleased about), books and things which neither of them had ever seen before. Ron got extremely excited over a shop selling pebbles with supposedly magical runes on them, but after discovering that they were merely paint and decoration and not magical in the least, he was very much put off.

The shop in question belonged to Old William, the most respected amongst the non-family staff members of the Griffin Hotel. He was an aboriginal man of advancing years, a native magician of immense knowledge and ability. He was not a wizard, as such, since his power was not like European magic, it being rooted in the land, the spirits of place and attunement to the forces of nature. His was a different magic, as no wand waving or formal spells, as such, were used. Nevertheless, he was one of the most liked and respected people in the Lane, though not to Hermione, who doubted his magic powers very much. To her, anything that didn't involve the magic she grew up with was not magic.

After a few hours of shopping, Ron began to complain that his legs were tired and that he was hungry, again. Taking pity on him and wiping sweat from her own forehead, Hermione decided that it was optimum time to return to the hotel. They enjoyed a highly satisfying buffet dinner at the Griffin Hotel with Jeremy and Miranda before retiring to their room. They washed, slipped into their pyjamas and proceeded to snuggle under the extremely soft covers of their bed.

"Big day tomorrow, Hermione," said Ron lightly as the lights went off and the night outside became progressively darker.

_You have no idea, _thought Hermione, the familiar tightness in her stomach returning as she remembered. Ron was only accompanying her on this trip, and did not have much of a role in the early stages of her plan to recover her parents' memories. She began to feel nervous again. What if her parents had changed so much there was no hope of recognizing their own daughter at all? Hermione had no idea what to expect, and it was only after an intense rallying of her Gryffindor courage combined with her ever-present conscience that she was here.

"What is it? You've gone all tense." Hermione jumped when she felt a familiar pair of hands on her shoulders, then relaxed when they began massaging tense knots on her back. "You're not nervous, are you?"

When Hermione spoke, she found her voice was strained and unusually high. "How could I _not _be nervous when I'm scared that the plan will go wrong?" She let out a sigh as Ron's hands eased the tension on her back. "I don't know what to expect at all. I hate not knowing. I'm worried how the meeting will go when I see them. The Ministry here have told them I'm coming to see them from Britain, regarding a matter of some importance and vaguely hinting that I'm some sort of lawyer who's going to be discussing some money a distant relative back home had left them. Of course it's just an excuse to get me in and close enough to try and reverse the memory spells I placed them under."

"I'm sure it'll all be fine, Hermione," said Ron, wincing as he eased out a particularly stubborn knot in the tendons of his wife's neck. "After all, you're a bloody good witch. You'll be able to give them their memories back, I'm certain of it."

"Yes, I know I'm capable of restoring their memories, Ron, but _after_ I've done that, what do I do next?" Hermione began to fret a little. "I did something terrible to them, I stole their lives from them and sent them here! How will they ever forgive me?"

"Hermione," Ron said gently and moved in close to hug her. "You did what you had to do to protect them. Voldemort would probably have tortured and killed them to try and get to you had they remained in England. You must know that you almost certainly saved their lives. Anyway, don't you fret about it now, I'm a bit knackered after that flight, even though I slept fairly well on the plane. I bet you're tired too. This bed looks very comfy and I think we both need to get some sleep. You need a chance to unwind a bit, it's no use going to meet your parents exhausted and apprehensive." He ran his hands through her hair. "We've come this far," he reassured her. "We can't just turn back now, not after so many people in the Ministry have helped us to this step. All we can do is go forward with the plan and hope it works."

Ron gave Hermione a kiss on the nose, and she smiled briefly, closing her eyes. But then they shot open again. "But – what if – "

"Stop with the 'what if's," admonished Ron, and Hermione fell silent. Smiling, he rolled over and placed a kiss on her lips. "Don't worry, Hermione," he said, blue eyes shining with comfort even in the dark. "Just sleep. It will work out. The path will be clear to us in the morning."


	4. Surprise!

Surprise!

Hermione had been sure she was prepared for anything when she reached her parent's new home. Ron was waiting around the corner out of sight, in the Australian Ministry car that had brought them there, along with its driver. He would join her later to help explain things to her parents, once she had restored their memories.

Arriving at the house Hermione asked Ron to wait outside for her, whilst she made the initial contact, then summoning all her courage she walked up to the front door and knocked on the door of the neat, small property located in a prosperous part of Sydney. She heard footsteps approaching from inside. Gulping back her nerves, she smiled as the figure of her father opened the door. He was fitter looking and more tanned than she remembered him, but of course she knew him at once. He smiled back at her in return, but there was no love or recognition in his eyes, just polite inquisitiveness. _It's almost like he never knew me at all_, she thought with a pang. _Seventeen years, all just… gone._

On the flip side, Hermione was somewhat pleased that her spells had held and that her parents were safe, but this thought was accompanied by a strange mixture of pride and sadness. "Hello, Mr Wilkins," she began hesitantly with what she hoped was a professional tone, "I believe that someone from a local law office contacted you earlier regarding my proposed visit. I believe our appointment was scheduled for this morning. I'm Hermione Granger, I take it I'm expected, is that right?"

The lawyer idea had, of course, in fact been a covert representative of the Australian Ministry of Magic and had set up the appointment. The man who thought of himself as Wendell Wilkins looked puzzled for a moment, and then his face cleared as he said, "Oh! But of course, Miss Granger." He gave her an apologetic grin. "I'd nearly forgotten you were coming, I suppose I'm still a bit vague, what with it being so early and my having only just recently having woken up. I'm still a bit dozy I'm afraid… I thought that your firm would be sending someone older to see us. You seem much too young and pretty to be a solicitor." Her father smiled good-humouredly at her.

"Well, actually sir, I'm still just a law student," said Hermione, ducking her head a little in a show of humility. "You see, I'm doing an internship during the holidays with Abbott & Longbottom in London, to gain work experience."

Of course, this was all Hermione's cover story. It was simply good luck that her friends' names so suited that of a law firm. She looked up again and noticed that her father looked as if he was expecting her to say more, so she went on to say, "Um, so… since this job does not require a fully trained lawyer, the firm kindly sent me over to get you to sign the paperwork regarding your relative's legacy. I have relatives in Sydney as well, and I was thinking that I could combine the trip with a family visit. My boss, Neville Longbottom – " she almost paused for a moment as the comical image of Neville as her boss popped up in her head, but continued, "is a wonderful employer and a good friend of my parents, but he's a bit eccentric. He doesn't trust the international post for important legal documents, you see, and when I told him about my wish to one day visit my Aunt and Uncle and other relatives here he thought up the idea of sending me over with the forms to get them signed." Hermione smiled, hoping the story was foolproof enough. She thought it was rather infallible, and she had learnt how to lie convincingly over the years too.

Wendell Wilkins gave her a once-over, then smiled widely again and swung the door fully open. "Well, Miss Granger," he said kindly, "you'd best come in and tell us all about what this Great Aunt Matilda has left us. I must say, I can't even remember having a Great Aunt Matilda… my parents and she must not have been very close."

Hermione entered the house hiding a degree of trepidation, as she knew she would soon be meeting her mother. Being ushered into the living room, she looked around and could barely suppress a wistful smile. The furniture was placed in the same orderly way she had always known growing up; though her parents didn't know their true identities, they still had the same taste in interior design. Recovering her composure and hoping the surprise had not shown too much on her face, Hermione saw her mother seated on the sofa and taking in the scene. She looked so much like her old self that it was only Hermione's quick mind that stopped her from saying, "Hello, Mother." Instead, she took out a file containing many 'legal' documents which the Ministry had fabricated for the purpose of this mission, and said, "Well, I have a few documents here I'll need both you and Mrs. Gra – " Her eyes widened at the slip, but she caught herself quickly before anyone noticed, " – er, Mrs. Wilkins to sign. All you'll need to do is read through them and sign where it tells you to, and we should be able to make the transactions and processes for your Aunt Matilda's inheritance to be passed on to you."

"Oh, that sounds a lot easier than I thought it would be," remarked Monica Wilkins from the sofa. "We can do that later. It's so lovely that you've come to visit, Miss Granger; you saved us the trouble of having to take a trip ourselves. Would you like for us to give you a tour of our house?"

Taken aback by the forwardness of the offer, Hermione froze for a few seconds before remembering herself. "Er, yes, of course," she said, hoping her smile was convincing enough. "I'd be delighted."

The next fifteen minutes were spent with Monica taking Hermione by the hand and leading her from room to room, Wendell following close behind. It was quite a shock for Hermione to see that the living and dining room were not the only rooms that looked the same as her old home. In fact, the entire house's interior structure was so similar to the one she had grown up in, it was almost uncanny.

"And finally, here is my pride and joy," said Monica with relish, reaching for the handle of a glass-paned door. "My husband and I spent months working on our garden, and here is the wonderful result."

The door swung open. Hermione gave an audible gasp as she stepped into what had to be the most well-kept garden she had ever seen. The Australian sun had done wonders to the plants and flowers that grew here, and everywhere was bursting with colour and sweet aromas. Monica smiled at Hermione's reaction, evidently proud of her work, and proceeded to introduce her to the plants she had grown. "I've grown a little strawberry patch here, see," she pointed at a little square where the familiar little heart-shaped red fruits were growing. "I've also got the usual herbs like rosemary and basil, and I sometimes add them to my cooking to spice them up a little!" She winked at Hermione. "And here's my flower patch. I've grown some asters, begonias and Sweet Williams, but my favourites are the roses. My husband planted these by himself, he's much better at handling those beauties than I am."

Hermione's gaze landed on a bunch of brilliantly blooming roses, each with too many petals for her to count. "They're beautiful," she said. "What are they called?"

"If my memory serves correctly, my husband tells me this particular species is called Gentle Hermione."

Hermione could not stop herself this time; she gave a very pronounced start. Of all the flowers her parents could have chosen, they chose one bearing her namesake. It was too much to take in. For a few seconds she forced herself to turn away from her own mother while pretending to admire the rest of the garden, trying to collect herself as tears began to well in her eyes. _Control yourself, _she thought, brushing away a tear with her thumb.

Suddenly, there was a burst of laughter not so far away from her, a high-pitched laugh that was both joyful and melodious. It was pleasing to the ear, but Hermione was so surprised by the sudden noise that her eyes shot open.

The surprise regarding the Gentle Hermione roses was nothing compared to _this._

Under a large beech tree was a small boy, no more than five years old, swinging on a car tire tied to one of the larger branches. He giggled as the swing went skyward, leaning back as he held on tightly to the sides. "Mom!" he yelled. "Look, I'm flying!"

Hermione stared.

"Oh, you haven't met Ambrose, have you?" said Monica, hurrying to the swing and taking the little boy to her. "Miss Granger, this is Ambrose… my son."

_Surprise._


	5. A Delicate Situation

A Delicate Situation

Everything that Hermione had previously planned for the big revelation to her parents that she was their daughter instantly fell to pieces. She could do nothing but stare at the boy who was now looking innocently up at her, one hand clasped in his mother's. They had the same eyes, she noticed, a dark chocolate brown, though his were bigger, but that was probably a due to the fact that the rest of his face was smaller in comparison. He had inherited his father's hair, which meant it was a lot straighter and less bushier than Hermione's.

He was also heartbreakingly endearing.

Hermione swore under her breath. _What am I going to do?_ she thought desperately, as conflicting emotions chased each other around in her head. It was clear that her parents had moved on from their old life, and Hermione was now unsure whether she had the right to take them back. Even if she did, what would she do with Ambrose? He had spent at least several years knowing his parents as Monica and Wendell Wilkins. Hermione hated to think what the boy would he do if he discovered that his parents were in fact two other people entirely. Despite the fact that she wanted her parents back very much, she had no wish whatsoever to cause any trauma to such a small child; she felt it would be very selfish.

_Bloody hell._

"Mummy," said Ambrose, looking up at Monica, "I'm hungry."

"He's such a dear little thing," said Monica, ruffling his hair and smiling at Hermione, obviously not having noticed her reaction. "Care to join us for tea, Miss Granger?"

Hermione by this time had made up her mind to get away from the situation as quickly as possible so she could go home and rethink her efforts and plans. "Um, I'm afraid I can't," she said, smiling back apologetically, her words running together in her haste. "My boss probably has another job for me and is waiting for my return. I think I have to go now."

She looked at Ambrose and hesitated, then crouched so she was at eye level with him. "Hello, Ambrose," she said softly. "I'm Hermione. I'll be back soon."

Ambrose stared at her with his big brown eyes, and Hermione's heart gave a tug at the sight. "Bye," he said shortly, before he shrank back and hid behind his mother.

"He's a little shy," laughed Monica, trying to pull Ambrose out from his hiding place without much success. "They always are at this age."

Hermione smiled tightly at her, then made a show of looking at her watch and widening her eyes. "I wish I could stay longer, but I'm running late for my next appointment," she said quickly. "It's been nice meeting you!" Then, biding the family goodbye, she made her way out the door.

Ron, not having been present, had no idea of what had gone on in the meeting with her parents and the complications that had arisen, but he could certainly see that Hermione had been put under a lot of strain. As soon as she had walked out of the house to a place well out of earshot where he was waiting inside the Ministry car, she fell into his arms and began to sob loudly. He strongly hugged her back as the extreme mix of emotions Hermione was feeling were brought forth, and he could feel his shoulder rapidly becoming quite damp. All he could do, until she'd calmed down a bit, was to simply hold her and let her know he was there for her. He nodded to the driver who was looking in his rear view mirror and the car gently headed back towards Sydney's magical district.

"Oh my God," said Hermione repeatedly as Ron held her, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my _God_!"

Ron hadn't the slightest idea what 'God' was, but clearly it was giving some kind of comfort to his wife to repeat it like a mantra. As soon as her sniffles had become a little less frequent, he held her in such a way that she looked up at him. "How did it go?" he asked.

"It was awful," she wailed, before burying her head in his shoulder again.

"Come on, I'm sure it wasn't that bad," he said.

"Yes it was," she replied, her voice muffled. Then a sudden burst of emotion seemed to take hold of her as the words began to spill from her lips. "It was going so well at first… I mean, I introduced myself as a lawyer and everything, and they were _ever so nice _to me. I recognized them – I mean, of course I did, they're my parents – oh, but _Ron, _they were just the same as they were before, except maybe the fact that their accents sound a little more Australian now. I gave them the documents and they gave me a tour around their house! Merlin, Ron, the house looked _exactly the same. _The furniture and the way it was placed in the house was identical to the home I grew up in. It broke my heart. Then they showed me the garden and it was _beautiful_ – they had flowers, including a rose called Gentle Hermione, and I almost told them then, because I couldn't believe that after all this time they had chosen a rose to plant which had my name! And I really was about to, but then they introduced this boy called Ambrose to me and it turns out they – have – an – effing – _son!_"

Ron's eyebrows shot up; he wasn't sure he had heard correctly. "A _son_?" he said incredulously. "But aren't your parents quite old for that?"

"No," said Hermione. "They took an accelerated dental training course when they were younger, which only takes four years, and they had me when they were twenty-two. They were thirty-nine when I left them, which means they're around forty-three now. Ambrose couldn't have been more than four or five when I saw him just now, so they must have had him not long after I changed their identities – " she gave a gasp. "Why didn't they _tell _me they were going to have another child?"

"I'm sure they were going to," Ron reassured her, pulling her closer for comfort. "It's all right, everything can go as planned. At least your mother isn't pregnant; can you imagine what the baby would go through if you tried to modify your mother's memories while it was still inside her?" Hermione gave a shudder and Ron smiled, knowing he had convinced her that things weren't as bad as they had first thought.

"But things _can't _go as planned," said Hermione. "I can't just change my parents' memories again, not after four years of them getting used to their life in Australia. And what would I tell Ambrose?" She instantly changed her voice to a mocking tone, pretending that Ambrose was in front of her. ""Hello, dearie, your parents aren't actually the people you grew up with, they're two entirely different people and I'm your long-lost older sister." That's enough to cause some emotional trauma, and I certainly don't want that!"

"I'll get Kingsley and you can tell him what happened," said Ron. "We'll be able to figure this out soon enough, Hermione. Don't worry, we'll think of a plan."


	6. Plan B

Plan B

Ron owled Kingsley that night regarding an urgent change of plans, while Hermione fretted about as owls and flying memos were now becoming much too slow, even for the ever-traditional magical world that still used quills and inkpots.

The next day dawned bright and sunny, just as it had before, and Ron and Hermione were greeted at breakfast with a Ministry owl bearing a letter containing a new set of plans from Kingsley. Ron opened the letter and, after some fiddling around, managed to find a space on the table to spread it out and read it properly.

"Right," said Ron slowly. "So, according to Kingsley, the new plan is that instead of ambushing your parents, you have to try and get to know them beforehand. I mean, not that you don't know them already, but they don't know _you – _or rather, they don't remember you, but anyway. Back to what he said." He glanced at the parchment. "So, his idea is that you have to wait for the right time to tell them, so when the time comes for you to confess to them that you're actually their daughter, it won't come as much of a shock to them."

Hermione nodded, but then her eyebrows furrowed. "What about Ambrose?"

"Er, what?"

"_Ambrose_." Hermione gave her husband a meaningful look, and rolled her eyes when he finally understood a few seconds later. "How am I supposed to explain – " she waved her hands in the air to indicate whatever this situation was supposed to be called, " – well, all this?"

"Um…" Ron skimmed the letter again, then looked up again with a distinctly crestfallen expression. "Er – he says he hasn't quite gotten to that part of the plan yet. B-but don't worry!" he added hastily when Hermione looked stricken. "He'll get to us as soon as possible."

"But I have to go and pick up the documents in_two hours!_" Hermione shrieked. "How am I supposed to find a way to get to know them when our 'business' will be done after I get the papers?"

"I don't know, you're the one who narrowly got into Ravenclaw, so _you_ think of something!"

Two hours later, Kingsley still hadn't replied regarding the problem that came in the form of a five-year-old named Ambrose, but Hermione decided to visit the house anyway, since she had to go and pick up the legal documents. She made her way to the Wilkins house at the appointed time and rang the bell, and was quickly welcomed and ushered into the house.

"We've signed those papers you gave us," said Monica, handing her the file. "I assume you're going to bring them back to your office and do whatever it is you lawyers do these days with them. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, I think that should be all," said Hermione. "We'll sort out the paperwork and the inheritance should be completed in no time." She smiled and looked away to her left, where she discovered Ambrose amusing himself with some blocks by the couch. After a polite nod to Monica she stood up and went over to him. "Hello, Ambrose," she greeted him cautiously. "I promised I would visit again. Do you remember me?"

He looked up at her and frowned, but as soon as he recognized her as the young lady who had come by yesterday, his eyes lit up. "You're… Her-mee-oh-nee," he replied clumsily.

Hermione laughed at his attempt to pronounce her name and proceeded to correct him. Ambrose caught on quickly, surprising her. Perhaps he had inherited her father's intelligence as well, causing him to display such brightness at a young age.

They proceeded to playing with his blocks, which were brightly coloured and of different shapes and sizes. Ambrose nattered all the while, building towers out of his bricks and knocking them over once they were as tall as himself, laughing as they toppled and smashed into pieces. Hermione smiled as she watched him, and knew from the feeling in her heart that she had already grown attached to her younger brother. Lost in a world of his own, Ambrose built another colourful tower of blocks, his face was screwed up in concentration. It was evident that he was going to make this one as high as he possibly could before he knocked it down.

Perhaps it was because Hermione was on edge from trying to think of a plan to stay so she could speak to her parents, or because she simply wanted to see what would happen if she tried to irk her own brother. Hermione's hand darted forward and nudged at a brick at the bottom. It wobbled slightly, and the rest of the blocks on top of it began to shake. Hermione watched Ambrose's reaction as the entire structure began to topple, wondering if he could burst into tears like she had in one of her baby videos when her parents had done the exact same thing to her. However, little Ambrose apparently had other plans.

"NO!" he shouted, his eyes going wide, and just as the tower tilted at a forty-five-degree angle, it… _froze_.

Hermione stared.

The blocks were completely motionless for a few seconds, but as Ambrose's gaze hardened, they slowly slid back into position and became upright again, until it seemed as if Hermione's hand had never touched it in the first place.

Hermione was not often rendered speechless, but this was one of those times where she was quite simply struck dumb. She knelt there on the carpet with her mouth hanging open, staring at her brother with disbelieving eyes.

It couldn't be. One Muggleborn was rare enough, but to have _two_ magical children born to a Muggle family was practically unheard of. Was it because her parents had assumed different identities? Did Hermione's Obliviating Charm offset her parents' capability of producing a magical child so Ambrose had the gift as well?

"What?" asked Ambrose, who had stopped playing with his blocks to look at her. Hermione had no idea how she looked to him right now, but from the way she could feel her hands going clammy at her sides, she supposed that her face was probably as white as a sheet.

**Author's Note:**

**I have already planned out how the entire story is going to go (just like how JKR planned out all seven books before she even wrote **_**Philosopher's Stone**_** – but hey, I'm not comparing myself to The Queen!) and all I have to do now is sit down and write it. So please bear with me, dear readers!**

**If you don't know what to do with your time whilst you're waiting, why not check out my other stories?**


	7. What Happens Next

What Happens Next…

**Author's Note:**

**I have good news and bad news for you all.**

**BAD NEWS: I'll just get this off my chest – I'm not finishing this story. I feel like a total jerk for saying this, given what I wrote in my notes last chapter, but I regret to say that this story is up for adoption once more. There are many, many reasons for this, one of which is because I've stopped writing Harry Potter stories for a very long while now (those of you who have subscribed to me will know that I write a lot of Merlin fanfiction these days). It's not that I've ditched the fandom, but I've come to enjoy the books as they are and prefer to analyse the original text with extreme detail now, rather than coming up with pseudo-original stuff of my own.**

**GOOD NEWS: Like I said last chapter, I already know in my head how the rest of the story is going to go. Unfortunately this plan won't be fleshed out in pretty words, but below is a summary of the rest of the plot. I hope it will somewhat suffice.**

After Hermione finds out about Ambrose's magic, which his parents had somehow failed to pick up on, she gets him to reveal his abilities to his parents. Obviously the Wilkinses are shocked and surprised at this, but Hermione then reveals herself to be a witch and explains to her family about the magical world, just like Ministry members do when they have to explain Hogwarts to the parents of Muggleborn children. The truth also comes out regarding the fact that Aunt Matilda's will was just a decoy, but not the part about Hermione's parentage. Hermione covers this up by saying that the Ministry was informed of a magical child and she had been sent over to investigate.

Over time, Hermione gets to know her parents and becomes a sort of babysitter for Ambrose because the Wilkinses have taken quite a liking to her. Because Hermione can do magic, she also becomes a sort of guide and mentor to hone Ambrose's gifts, as he is obviously very talented for his age. However, little Ambrose is much more clever and observant that Hermione had thought (they are related, after all) and he manages to pick up on little tells now and then about Hermione's even bigger secret. For example, sometimes Hermione slips up and almost calls her parents Mum and Dad, and once when Hermione and Ambrose are looking into a mirror, Ambrose remarks that they look alike.

Eventually, the beans are spilled. Hermione tells Ambrose that they are actually siblings, and he may or may not take it badly at first. One day at dinnertime, Ambrose accidentally gives away Hermione's true identity. At first his parents are extremely confused, but Hermione has been so guilty about hiding the truth for so long that she confesses. Her parents don't believe her at first, but when they do emotions run extremely high because they feel so betrayed. Hermione tearfully explains to them the reasons for which she had done so, and at long last her parents come around. Of course, as soon as things cool back down, Hermione gives them their memories back (she had never really taken them away, but had locked them up in the backs of their minds).

Once the past has flooded back, Hermione asks her parents if they want to move back to England – not immediately, but after they've overcome the trauma of suddenly remembering so much. To her surprise, they decide that they want to stay in Australia, because they have come to love the country, even with their memories restored. Fortunately, due to Muggle and magical means of transport, Hermione can still visit and talk to them, may it be by Floo, Portkey, down the telephone or video call.

Hermione and Ron go back to England (though another possibility could be that they move to Australia to live with Hermione's parents and Ambrose). The story finishes with an epilogue set seven years later (by which time Hermione and Ron already have Rose and Hugo), when Ambrose receives his Hogwarts letter.

**Author's Note:**

**So, for those of you who would like to carry on with my story, please email me at ****bravenclawesome at gmail dot com****. As long as you credit me (and Oriondruid, as I had adopted this story from him) as the original creators of the story, feel free to copy the text from the previous chapters word for word, and change it however you like.**


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